At What Cost?
by Sullen Shadowhawk
Summary: After moving on to New York, Connor starts seeing a girl Murphy doesn't trust. Can he balance their calling with trying to calm the mess between his brother and his lover?
1. Exodus

**Hey, I'm Teagan, and this is my first BDS fic. I hope it's well received. Naturally, I don't own it (and likely, neither do you). **

Chapter One: Exodus

Boston had closed in on the Saints after the Yakavetta trial. Just as well to leave, as they felt their presence needed elsewhere. New York granted them the asylum of annonymity. They set themselves up in a small loft in Greenwich Village and took their time getting to know the city. Every so often, the telephone would ring and Agent Smecker would clue them in a little more to the inner workings of New York, helping them set up their network. Life continued much as it had before, only more somber for the fresh memory of Rocco. The brothers took to New York well, much as they had Boston when first they came from Ireland. Their father gave them direction and order, but nothing could tame their wild side.

Living near the NYU campus, the twins quickly sought out a pub to call their own. It didn't take them very long at all. O'Hallorans was small and smokey, with a friendly atmosphere and a young crowd. The bartender, Shane, was in his early thirties and took to the twins instantly for shared heritage. One night as Connor and Murphy played pool by the dim lights, a group of laughing girls spilled into the pub. They watched covertly as the girls took a table and ordered their first round. The girls were pretty, clearly rich, and very obnoxious. Five of them spoke with tell-tale New York accents. The sixth, the leader by the twins' reckoning, laughed the prettiest and talked the least, though when she did her voice was colored with an accent they didn't recognize. For as much as the MacManus brothers watched them, the girls returned it twice over. Catcalls and tipsy whistles came from the back corner and the brothers preened and strutted to the girls' raucous approval.

The one they'd figured for the leader walked up to Murphy and took the cue from his hand. She smiled at Connor and racked the balls, motioning him, when she'd finished, to take the first shot. Her friends giggled drunkenly from their table and Murphy stared at the pair of them incredulously. Connor gave her a sideways grin and took his shot, landing solids. Their score was tied till the very last, when she sunk the eight ball, tossed Murphy's cue back to him, and led Connor to the bar by his shirtsleeve. Murphy stared after them and the girls whooped with glee. "Good game," Connor said, making his first attempt at conversation. "Was, wasn't it," she mused, ordering another round for her friends. Connor went to order, too, but she touched his arm and told him no. "I've got your tab tonight, cutie," she told him with a smile that made him a little drunker. From the pool table, Murphy watched as this random girl tried seducing his brother. He didn't like it. They had always been fiercely protective of each other and it put him on edge to know that she may pose a threat to him. A threat Connor didn't seem to care about.

Connor helped carry the beer bottles back to the table, where the girls had pulled Murphy and were laughing and teasing him. For a moment, he was caught up in flirting with them. They were cute and they were interested. As soon as his brother returned, though, his eyes grew sharp. She was beautiful, he'd admit, with dark waves falling neatly around her slim waist, brown skin, designer clothes, and lustrous hazel eyes. This exotic beauty that held Connor's attention captive, Hannah, Murphy trusted less and less as the night progressed. Maybe he was jealous, he thought, that his brother was ignoring him. Maybe he was just being overprotective. In any case, he tried to let it go, but every time he saw the look of plain fascination on Connor's face, it set him grumbling.

The night wore on, and at 2 am, the girls decided they'd best be off back to campus so they could go to class in the morning. As they were walking out, Hannah hung back to talk to Connor. She pulled him in close to her and kissed him softly, pulling his hand into hers and writing her phone number onto it, right under the tattooed 'Veritas'. "Don't lose my number, cutie, I'll be expecting your call." He lifted his hand to her face and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, leaning in to whisper. "I'll be callin' ye, don' you worry, beautiful." He kissed her again and watched her walk out the door and into a waiting cab. Giddy, he turned around only to meet the look of mingled disgust and worry on his twin's face.

"What?" Murphy rolled his shoulders and pulled Connor back to the table. "I don' think I like her, Con." "You don' like anyone, Murph." Murphy looked at him sharply, "Aye," he said, "but I mean it about that one." Connor rolled his eyes and sank back into his seat. "She's not like Nora, Murph," he said after a few tense minutes. "You don' fuckin' know that, Connor."

**What do we think? Review and let me know.  
xoxo  
T.G.**


	2. My Brother's Keeper

**Thanks to BelhavenOnTap and Sith Happens for your reviews, I really hope everyone enjoys this story and this chapter. :)**

Chapter Two: My Brother's Keeper

The next afternoon, Hannah's heart leapt as her cell phone rang. She didn't recognize the number, so she knew it must be Connor. Trying to keep excitement out of her voice, she answered. "Hello?" Jumping off her bed to pace around her room, she felt a surge of happiness when she heard his voice on the other end. "Hannah? It's Connor, um, from the pub las' night. Anyway, I was wonderin if I might take ye out ta dinner tonight?" She couldn't keep from smiling as she answered yes. "I know a great place," she said, "meet me at O'Hallorans at six."

As promised, at 6:00 Connor was waiting for her in the pub. She walked up behind him, put her head on his shoulder, and whispered "Boo." Connor smiled as he turned around to greet his date. "Hello beautiful," he said, kissing her on the cheek and rising from his barstool. "Do you like Chinese?" she asked as she hailed a cab. "Who doesn't," he answered. When the cab pulled up, Connor opened the door for Hannah and filed in behind her. She gave the driver an address he didn't recognize. "We're going to my favorite restaurant, down in Chinatown." Connor laughed, "Guess there's no place better for good Chinese food than Chinatown."

While they ate they started getting to know each other. Connor told her about going from Ireland to Boston, and from Boston to New York, leaving out the bloody details. "Did you like it in Ireland?" Connor shrugged his shoulders noncommittally, "I love it there, it's home, but it just..." he trailed off, looking for words that wouldn't expose the whole story, "it just got really small," he finished. She nodded, knowing he didn't mean for her to understand. "What about you, Miss Hannah," Connor asked, changing the subject, "how'd you come by your accent?" She sighed and cast her eyes down to the table. Connor wasn't the only one eager to dismiss the past. "I'm from Israel," she answered, "I moved here six years ago, when I was seventeen, and I don't plan on going back." Connor recognized the signs of discomfort he'd just displayed mirrored in her actions and decided not to press. "So," he ventured, hoping for a safer topic, "what are ye in school for?" "I'm going to teach history, I'm graduating in december." The rest of the date passed easily, and by the time they got back to O'Hallorans, both were sure that something big was happening.

"I really like you, Connor," Hannah whispered against his chest as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him. Connor pressed his fingers into her waist as they kissed, pulling her nearer to him. "I like you, too," he murmered as she pulled away and headed for the door. "I should go," she said, blowing him a kiss, "call me." He waved to her and watched her leave, wondering how he'd fallen into a romance. As he walked home, he mulled over the nights events, trying to figure out what exactly it was that drew him to her. Everything, he decided. It was the first time in a long time he'd thought of himself as anything but a Saint. She made him feel like a man.

Murphy was waiting up when his brother got home. "How was it?" "I like her." "I don't," Murphy said. Connor rolled his eyes. "Ye don' even fuckin' know 'er, Murph." "And I suppose you fuckin' do after one date, eh? Look, I know she's pretty, and I know how long it's been since ya had a girl, but for fuck's sake, Connor, she's a spoiled little rich bitch who's having fun in the slums." "Shut the fuck up, Murphy, she's a sweet girl. Are ye sayin' that jus' cos she's got money that there's no way she could possibly be interested in me? What the fuck is that?" Murphy sighed and lit a cigarette. "I'm not sayin' that, Con. Alls I'm sayin' is watch out. Yer a trustin' sort a man and I'd hate ta see ya end up with some wench who don' love ya." Connor nodded. "I know yer lookin' out for me, Murph, but honestly, she's very sweet."

The brothers sat in silent contemplation for the next few minutes, watching the embers glow orange at the tips of their cigarettes. "Tell me about her, Con. What is it that makes you think she's so great?" Murphy asked without a trace of malice. His voice was strained, and Connor knew he was trying to make an effort. "She's gonna be a teacher, she dances ballet, she joined a sorority to get outta her house. We didn't really go into deep personal shit, didn't seem so keen to talk about 'er past, and me neither. She makes me laugh, though, and she just seems to get me. She didn't ask stupid questions when I was quiet. Like she knew to leave it alone." Murphy put out his cigarette and felt agitated again. "Oh, aye, that's not suspicious at all, Con. Doesn't wanna talk about 'er past. She's hidin' from ye. Givin' ye the bare minimum to keep ye interested then break yer fuckin' heart." "Yer paranoid, Murph. Always lookin fer the bad in people." "I'm not paranoid, I'm cautious, and you know good and damn well why I don' trust women. She's a New Yorker, and they're not exactly known for their compassion. I can't make ye break it off with 'er, Connor, but jus' listen and be careful alright?"

Murphy realized he was pacing the floor and practically screaming. He sat back down on the couch and looked at Connor. "She's not a New Yorker," he said meekly, "she's from Israel." Murphy rolled his eyes and put his face in his hands. "Not even a fuckin' Catholic," he sighed, shaking his head, "Christ, Connor, ye've set yerself up this time."

**Like it? Hate it? Let me know, because reviews keep me sane. :)  
xoxo  
T.G.**


	3. On Air and Through Fire

Hey everyone! Teagan here with another update, sorry for the delay but I haven't had much pc time. Anyway, this chapter is a little "Pride and Prejudice" (which really is a wonderful book) but I like to think of Connor and Hannah as Jane-and-Bingley-esque. :) Thanks to my three reviewers- Bel, Sithy, and Lochrann, you make me keep writing.  
  
Chapter Three: On Air and Through Fire 

Trying to concentrate on homework was futile. Hannah realized she'd read the same paragraph about Martin Luther about eight times, not comprehending a word of it. Memories of Irish accented whispers buzzed in her brain and sent chills through her spine. Connor's lips on hers, his hands on her waist, forcing her as close to him as she could go. Beautiful. She thought of how he called her beautiful, feeling like he meant more than simply pretty. His smile, slanted and mischievous, kept appearing behind her eyes and she finally gave up trying to study so she could devote her attention to reliving her dates with Connor again. Tossing her history book onto the floor, she laid her head back on the couch cushion and let herself smile while she thought of him.

Her roommates exchanged looks of amusement as they watched Hannah daydream. She and the five girls who'd first gone to O'Halloran's lived together in a little sorority house just off campus. "Who're you thinking of, Hannah?" Jaime, the house president, asked. "Connor," she answered dreamily. "Who's Connor? The guy from the bar? Did you go out with him?" Hannah sat up on the couch and nodded. Jaime scoffed and the other girls giggled. "What?" Hannah asked, not understanding what they were laughing at. Jaime walked to the couch Hannah was on and sat next to her, taking her hand. "Hannah, honey, it's one thing to go to a bar and play pool all night with a gorgeous guy...but to actually go out with him? I mean, we were all chatting with the other one, but seriously..." Hannah pulled her hand away, very offended. "Seriously what, Jaime?"

Jaime pressed her hands together and thought of her words carefully. "Well, he's..." she faltered, "he doesn't exactly run in the same circle as you," she finished diplomatically. Hannah rolled her eyes. "Are you actually telling me that you don't think he's good enough for me?" Jaime faltered again. "I wouldn't have said it that way," she stammered, but then regained her resolve, "but if you're asking me, then yes. Yes, I'm telling you I don't think that some drunk guy you met down at a dingy old bar in a poor part of town is good enough for you. You're a beautiful, wealthy, smart, classy girl, Hannah, and I think you're a little too naive to American culture to understand that girls like you are easy targets."

Hannah's eyes were brimming with tears. "Connor's not like that," she whispered, "I know it. He's a nice guy. He's decent. I'm not stupid, you said so yourself. Don't you think I know the difference between a guy who likes me and a guy who just wants me for my money? I'm not blind, either. He and his brother take care of their father, they send all their money back home to their mother in Ireland. They love each other, and they're good, decent men."

Jaime seemed just the slightest bit deflated but not quite deterred. "Okay, so maybe he's friggin' Ghandi...he's still a poor boy from The Village and you're still an uptown girl. I hate to be this blunt but at least I'm telling you to your face. Nobody is going to be okay with this. Your family will cut you off and your supposed friends will talk about you behind your back, and when you've got nothing left, you see how long he sticks around." Hannah looked like she'd been slapped. "Besides," Jaime continued, "that brother of his doesn't like you. He was giving you dirty looks all night while you were making swoony eyes. You just watch, Brother Dear will give word that he doesn't approve and like a good, obedient little dog, Prince Charming will dump your ass flat back here on our doorstep."

Hannah looked around the room, tears pouring from her eyes. None of her friends would meet her eyes. She knew they all agreed with Jaime. "You're wrong about Connor," she said defiantly, "but you're right about one thing. My supposed friends will turn my back on me and talk about me? Well then, what a wonderful friend you must be to try and break me down to my face." Jaime looked hurt. "I'm just looking out for you, Hannah," she replied, her voice tinged with shame. "Yeah, well, I get your point. I'll be back tomorrow, I'm going home tonight."

The girls mumbled their goodnights as Hannah walked out the door. On the ride back to her family's house, Hannah tried not to cry as she thought about what her best friend had said. She trusted Connor. She knew Jaime was an elitist snob. Only one thing she'd said actually scared her. Connor and his brother Murphy were tight as a double-knot. If Murphy didn't like her, how long would Connor fight him? What lengths would he go to to keep seeing her? She didn't like having all those questions unanswered, so when she got into her room, she made up her mind to call him. After three rings she was greeted by his friendly voice. She sniffled just a little as she said hello. "Hannah, are ye alright?" he asked, concerned. "Yeah, I'm fine," she answered, "I just wanted to talk to you about a couple things, are you free?" "Yeah, I'm free ta talk right now. What's on yer mind, beautiful?"

She took a deep breath and told him the whole story. "I don't think any of those things about you, Connor, and I told them as much. I know better than that. I trust you." "Okay," Connor said, upset at the notion that someone could think those things of him, "so what are ye worried about, then?" She sighed again before she continued. "She said that Murphy doesn't like me, and I keep wondering if you'd stand up for me or back out if he asked you to." Connor pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh of his own. "It's true that he doesn't trust ye, Hannah, but I already stood up to 'im about ya. Told him he didn't know ye yet and that he ought ta trust my judgement. I think the two a ye have to get ta know each other before ya can really make up yer minds as ta whether or not ye get along." "Okay," Hannah said, "but how long do you fight for me? At what point do you say, 'I'm sorry but you're not worth this'?" Connor let exhaled a plume of smoke and answered honestly. "I don't know yet."

**Still with me? Let me know!  
XoXo  
Teagan**


	4. Tempest

**Teagan here, finally with another chapter. Very sorry for the delay but I've had some massive writer's block, and that piled on top of holiday "cheer" has not made for a very good work environment. This chapter is specially dedicated to my dear e-friend Sithy, because thanks to her very frequent updates, I finally felt bad enough about my laziness and writer's block to sit myself down and churn out this chapter. I hate making people fight, but Sithy's been doing it for a good deal of her story, and so I emmulate her now and perservere. So all my gratitude there, and on with the show!**

Chapter Four: Tempest

_I don't know yet_

The phrase hung in the air. Hannah controlled her breathing, trying desperately not to let Connor hear her cry. She couldn't keep it for long. She sniffled and Connor broke his guilty silence. "I know that was really blunt, Hannah, but you asked me and I'm an honest man." A small sob hitched in her throat as she tried to regain her composure. "I appreciate that...really, I do, I just...I don't get it." Connor tried to keep his cool. "What don' ye get, Hannah, he's my brother, my twin, and no matter what, he's always the one in my life." She laughed sarcastically. "If he's always the one in your life," she countered, "then you should be able to tell him that it's none of his business. If he's not going anywhere then what are you scared of?"

"I'm not scared of anything. I just trust Murphy's opinion, okay? He's got a lot more experience with heartbreak than I do and he's doing he damndest to keep it that way. I'm not gonna just throw that away."

"So you'd rather throw me away instead, is that it? I thought we had something good here, Con. I've been falling for you, and thinking that maybe, just fucking maybe, you felt it too. But you know what? If you're willing to be in Murphy's shadow all your life, I'm nobody to keep you. You say he's got more experience? Maybe he's just bitter. Ever think of it that way? Maybe that darling protective brother of yours wants to hold you back and keep you as miserable as you make him out to be. I mean, fucking Christ, Connor, he doesn't even know me! Where the hell does he get off making any comment about me?"

Losing patience rapidly, Connor spit venom into the receiver. "Are ye done insultin' my brother yet or shall I give ye another half hour, huh? I never said I was breakin' up with ye. I never said we were over. I jus' answered your question honestly, like ye asked me to. I'd really like for you and Murph to get to know each other. I'd love it if he could see all the wonderful things I see in ye. It's not your place to call him bitter. You say he doesn't know you? You don' know the first about him, darling, I promise you that. I've been fallin' all over myself for you from the moment I saw ye in the bar, but I'll not have anythin' to do with a girl who don' respect my family."

"I didn't mean any disrespect Connor, but this is what I'm talking about. I don't get it. I don't get why he hates me. What did I do to him? Your the one who said that he's been heartbroken. What I'm trying to figure out is what that has to do with me. Why is he taking out his apprehensions on us? I don't get why he can't just be happy for you. I want to know what I did or failed to do that made him so determined to break us up."

Connor's anger broke, but he couldn't find the right words to answer Hannah's questions. "Murphy's been through hell and back, and he just wants to make sure I don't follow suit. I'm not obeying him blindly, I'm trying to prove to him that you're not the same. I want him to love you, like I do...but if it doesn't stop...if he doesn't see you how I do, then I have to trust his judgement. Right now, it's still my turn. Right now I'm still trying to show him your potential."

Hannah let loose a derisive snort. "I don't like the idea of proving myself to your brother before I'm worthy of you. I understand that he's your twin brother and all, but, in my opinion, it's still none of his business. If we make each other happy, and if he's not going anywhere, then he should get used to me. You said you love me. I love you too, Connor, so I'm not going anywhere either. Right now, though, I'm pretty angry with this situation. I'm going to take a few days to chill out. I'll call you when I'm calm. I'd hate to say anything I'd regret. Please use the time to figure out what you want?"

Before Connor could respond, he heard the click of her disconnecting line and the hum of the dial tone. He threw the phone down on the floor with a loud "Fuck!" and tossed his head back onto his pillow. Just then, his father knocked on his door. "Got a message from Smecker, there's some shite goin' on tonight. Load up, we've the Lord's work to do this night." Connor nodded at his father and started gathering the tools of the family trade. Never before had he used their work as a way to tune out of life, but tonight, he was glad for the distraction it would surely provide. He knew he'd be no use to anybody killing himself over the fight he'd just had with a woman he'd accidentally, but truthfully, confessed his love to. Minutes later, he and his father and Murphy were out the door and ready to cleanse the city. Hannah solidly out of his mind, he focused all his thoughts on the vengeance of God.

**Sorry if it's a short one, but please review. Also, particularly interested in how I'm doing with my dialogue. Have had issues with whether I sound natural or not. Any thoughts? **

xoxo  
Teagan G. 


	5. The Thing About Girls

**Hey everyone, Happy New Year and all that jazz from Teagan! This is a two-parter, so please forgive the short chapters. I could have combined them, but then I wouldn't have 20 chapters. Hope I've still got readers out there, if so, enjoy!  
**  
Chapter Five: The Thing About Girls

The job was an easy one. A few drug dealers and pimps at a hotel party. The night hadn't proven to be as adequate a distraction as he'd hoped. Thoughts of Hannah kept flitting through his brain, infiltrating his concentration and tearing at his heart. He hated fighting, hated arguing, and hated that he couldn't blame her for most of the things she'd said. They were in love with each other? How had that happened? The night of confessing love was supposed to be a romantic one, wasn't it? That's just the way things happen. The fact that they'd said it while they were fighting broke his heart a little. He prayed that they could get over it, that this really was just their beginning.

After cleaning up and rushing home, life resumed as usual. Murphy went to O'Halloran's by himself that evening. Connor wasn't in the mood to be around his twin. Instead, he tried to get to his room unnoticed. As soon as the front door closed behind Murphy, that plan was disrupted. "Feel like talkin' about it, son?" His father asked from just outside the door. "Not really, Da," he replied dejectedly, "I just need ta think." Connor heard him chuckle quietly and open his door anyway. "Then maybe ye won' mind takin' some advice."

Connor sat up in his bed and the flimsy mattress groaned as his father sat beside him. "So ye've fallen in love with a lass, now, have ye, me boy. And, o' course, your worrywart brother don't approve. Ye're stuck in the middle, aren't ye? It's not a place I envy ye, that's fer sure, but ye've got to make some choices. I heard what ye were tellin' the girl, and ye make a lot a sense, but ye've got ta take yer time with this. Murphy is Murphy, baggage and all, but he'll always be yer brother. The thing about girls, lad, is that they don' stay where they're not first priority, nor should they have to. If yer in love with the girl, then to the devil with Murphy's opinion. He'll come around one day, and if he turns out ta be right about the lass, he ain't gonna hold it against ye. He'll always love ye, and he'll forgive ye anythin'."

Connor lit a cigarette and puffed on it intently. "Do ya really believe all that, Da?" "Aye, o' course I do, or I'd not be sayin' it," he answered, clapping his son on the shoulder. "I've never been in this kind a mess before, yer ma and me were meant to be, everybody who saw us knew it. But I do understand that it's easy to get caught up in details. I have a callin' from the Lord ta rid the world a evil, but I also have a callin' from the self same Lord ta love and honor yer mother. So where do the paths split? I've had ta walk in the middle most a me life. I know what it's like ta ask questions. So ask yer questions, Connor, ask 'em ta her, ta Murph, ta yer Ma or me even, but if ye love the lass, try yer best to always put her first. That's all she cares about, I can almost promise. She just wants fer you ta love 'er."

With that, Connor wathced his father stand and leave the room, done giving advice but always around if he wanted to talk. They didn't have moments like that often, moments where they actually felt like a family. It reassured him to know that he had someone to go to. It filled in some of the void that his spat with Murphy had left. He wanted to talk to Hannah, but he knew he couldn't call her. She'd made it crystal clear that she needed time. Maybe he did, too, to think about everything that had been said, but all he could think was how he wanted to hear her voice. To hell with time, he only needed her. He'd give her all the time she asked for, and burn in the meantime.

**Like? Hate? Review?  
xoxo  
T.G.**


	6. The Trouble With Men

**Here's part two, still very short, but hopefully with both it still measures up. Enjoy!  
**  
Chapter Six: The Trouble With Men

"Have ye thought any on what we discussed last night, Connor?" Connor nodded in response, not wanting to talk about it anymore. He'd set himself to pining, and there wasn't any stopping it now. "I think ye should get out an' be in the sun today. If yer gonna mope, don't do it round here, people have livin' ta do, ya know." He nodded again and lit a cigarette, silently acquiescing his father's request that he leave.

As Connor left, Murphy came out of his room for breakfast. "Where's he off to?" he inquired of his brother. "Gone ta clear 'is head, figure things out about that lass a his." Murphy nodded uncomfortably. "Ye know," his father said, "I think ye ought ta give the girl a chance before ye decide that she's bound ta break his heart. It's not fair ta her or ta yer brother. Women are all different, Murphy, a fact you'd best remember." Murphy nodded stiffly and sat to his Lucky Charms. He hoped his da was right, but he really didn't feel like being lectured at 8:30 in the morning. "I'm headed out today as well, Da, so you've the run of the house," he said as he drained the dregs of his milk from the bowl and wiped what had spilled from his chin with his wrist. "I'll see ya later."

With his boys out of the house, Michael MacManus had planned a quiet day of cigar smoke and old records. Around noon, the telephone roused him from his lounging. "Hello?" he answered. "Hi," came the timid voice of a young woman, "is Connor home?" Michael chuckled to himself. "You must be Hannah, no, Connor's not 'ere at the moment." "O-oh, okay, well, I'll call back later then. Sorry to disturb you." He exhaled a plume of smoke and laughed again. "Yer not disturbin' me at all. Actually, I'm rather glad ye called. I've talked to Connor about ye, hopefully knocked some sense inta that head of his, and, if ye've got a moment, I'd like ta talk ta you the same." Hannah felt puzzled, but agreed quickly. "Okay," she said, "what's up?"

"Connor is a very loyal man. He's never gone against his brother, and even thinkin' about it pains him. He also loves you. Yer the only girl he's ever said that of, and he wants ta do right by you. He's in a tough place, and gettin' it from every side. Murphy doesn't trust ya, and I'm sure you resent the hell out a that, understandably so. So it's left ta Connor ta try and make peace between the two people he loves best in all the world. I think that you and Murphy need ta meet, and ta try and get along, for Connor's sake."

Hannah listened raptly to the wise words. "I never meant to make Murphy hate me. I'd love for us to get along. I just don't understand what I did, so I don't know how to make it better," she said tearily. "Hannah, me dear, the trouble with men is that we tend ta oversimplify things. Murphy was very hurt by a woman, his ex wife, Nora. She tore his world apart and he's never recovered. Now he thinks that all women are like her. It may not be fair, but that's just how it is. It's yer job now ta prove ta him that ye love Connor, and that yer not like her."

She had no idea what to say. "Thank you, Mr. MacManus," was all she could muster. "Aye, yer welcome dear, I'll tell Connor ye called." The receiver disconnected and Hannah was left alone with her new insight into Connor's bitter twin. He'd been right. She hadn't known him at all, and she'd made a very harsh judgement of him. She couldn't wait to talk to Connor again, to apologize to him and to make up. She wanted to tell him that she loved him while she was smiling. She wanted to make everything right. On the other end of the telephone line, Michael MacManus continued to listen to his records and smoke his cigars, wearing a rather self-satisfied grin for the rest of the afternoon.

**So what do we make of this Murphy revalation? Reviews, please!  
xoxo  
Mz. Teagan**


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